


Firsts For Everything

by bevinkathryn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevinkathryn/pseuds/bevinkathryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, people seem to forget, in all this fighting for equal rights, that 'gay couples' are just 'couples'.  Merlin and Arthur, and a first-time hundreds of lives in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Born from a conversation I had with one of my (gay) friends, who said "People seem to forget, in all this fighting for equal rights, that 'gay couples' are just 'couples'." This one's for you, even if you don't know it. x
> 
> EDIT: This is in no way meant to be a 'legalise gay marriage so my OTP can get married!' gimmick. It's more of an homage to the hard work of countless real people fighting to let people in love get married.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read on my [livejournal](http://silverwings2020.livejournal.com/1763.html).

Merlin couldn’t remember all of his reincarnations, but he took a great deal of satisfaction in remembering more than Arthur.  The earliest either of them can recall is Camelot, where Arthur was king and Merlin his Court Sorcerer.  These memories are the clearest of them all—most lives are reduced to shadows, surviving only in flashes and brief memories.  They both remember the Renaissance, and how Merlin’s attempts at poetry had made Arthur laugh; the Great Fire of London, which had luckily spared their home but destroyed so many of their friends’; standing at the harbor, watching with heavy hearts as Gwaine sailed off for the New World; dancing in their sitting room, doors firmly shut and windows carefully shuttered, their brand-new gramophone crackling in the background.  


Merlin harbors other memories, some fond, and some devastating.  He tries very hard, in every life, to forget the day his magic had been discovered during the witch trials, Arthur’s terrified voice shouting his name over and over as Merlin ran.  Arthur never remembers catching the Black Plague, but Merlin never forgets, watching Arthur wither away under the influence of the disease in his darkest nightmares, his magic useless against the unknown illness.  He can still feel the terror of not knowing if Arthur will return from the war—any war, Arthur had never learned not to be a soldier—and the overwhelming joy of seeing him at the end, tattered but  alive .

In every memory, they are always together, two halves of a coin, Merlin and Arthur.  Arthur had whispered the same endearments into Merlin’s skin for centuries, but Merlin never tired of them.  They’d dealt with hate in every life, had hidden their relationship from everyone more often than not, and it made Merlin’s heart break to watch Arthur smile and laugh with women, for the sake of society or his father, knowing how unhappy it made him.  They’d been found out before, of course—someone would find them holding hands, or notice Merlin’s untouched bed, or just know by their intimate smiles.  Lance was usually the first to notice, but sometimes it was Gwen, or Leon, or even quiet Percival.  They were freer in some incarnations than others, but never were they truly accepted.  But their last reincarnation had shown them a changing world.

It was the first incarnation where Merlin and Arthur freely told their friends.  It didn’t matter that they were “wrong”, or “unnatural”—they were happy.   They kept the truth from Uther—Arthur’s father was old-fashioned and stubborn, in every incarnation, and would never have been happy with his son’s relationship, much as he loved Arthur.  Even as the times began to change, Arthur hid it from him, enduring Uther’s unintentional slurs with clenched hands and downcast eyes, pressing apologies into Merlin’s skin later that night, seeking forgiveness in his arms.  And Merlin held onto him, wishing there was more that he could do, praying that their future held more than secrets.

This time, Merlin couldn’t help but feel like it was all worth it.

It’d taken longer than usual for him and Arthur to find each other, and a bit longer still to remember, but by the time they did, they didn’t have to hide any more.  The first time they kissed, it was on the street, in front of everyone, and Merlin had giggled and Arthur had called him a girl, and they both beamed when someone nearby clapped.  They held hands at the movies and played footsie at restaurants and kissed when they felt like it.  Merlin sat at Arthur’s side at his monthly visits with Uther, who accepted Merlin’s presence with a sigh and an extra glass of wine.  When Arthur graduated from uni, a year ahead of Merlin, it was Merlin he headed for straight after the ceremony, and Merlin he went home with later that night to celebrate with in private.

Finally, after so many centuries, they were free.

 

 

There were many days when Merlin seriously questioned his decision to go straight into grad school.  He genuinely loved what he did, but sometimes the mound of work and the hum of lectures and the hurried, lonely dinners between trips to the library got to be too much, and he began daydreaming about dropping out and working in his uncle’s shop instead.  The past week had been nothing but days like this, and he was more than relieved to find himself at the end of it, holed away with Gwen in what was becoming a depressingly familiar corner of the library. 

A faint buzzing from somewhere under the pile of papers on the desk made Merlin jump.  Gwen watched with a raised eyebrow as he dug around for his phone, which had somehow wound up in the middle of a stack of lecture notes, and flipped open the screen, thoroughly unsurprised to see Arthur’s name under the ‘ _1 new message!_ ' line.

 _Need a study break_? the text asked.  Merlin smiled.

_depends. shouldn’t you be working? _

_Just leaving now _ , Arthur’s reply said a minute later.   _Meet for lunch? _

_will there be coffee involved? _

_If you like._

Merlin could practically see Arthur rolling his eyes, and he chuckled.

“What does Arthur want?” Gwen asked in a whisper, biting idly on the cap of her pen.

“To steal me away for lunch,” Merlin answered just as quietly.  “You don’t mind, do you?  I shouldn’t be long; we could work again later if you want.”

“Oh, go ahead, he’ll only show up here if you say no,” was Gwen’s answer, and she rolled her eyes affectionately at the instant smile that spread across Merlin’s face.

“Thanks, Gwen,” he said, and hurriedly pulled out his phone to reply to Arthur.

_sold. be there in 20._

 

\---

 

Precisely thirty-two minutes later, Merlin stepped into his uni’s café.  He looked around and saw Arthur already at a table, two steaming cups in front of him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said in greeting, sliding into the booth with a quick kiss to Arthur’s cheek.  “I got caught up in revision.  That for me?”

Arthur smirked.  “Believe me, Merlin, I gave up hope of you being punctual a long time ago.”  He pushed the untouched meal closer to Merlin, who accepted it with muttered thanks.  “Did you get any work done?”

“A bit.  Enough to take a bit of time off, anyway.”

“Good.  Maybe now you can sleep a whole night through without using a textbook as a pillow,” Arthur remarked.  Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically, mouth full of sandwich.

“I’m not that bad.”  Arthur snorted.  “Well, okay, not anymore.”

“Only because you know I’ll drag you out of the library if you try it again,” Arthur said smugly, taking a sip of his drink, and Merlin made a face.

“Alright, fine, but you were just as bad when you were studying for the bar exam,” he pointed out, and Arthur kicked him lightly under the table in reply.

“Why don’t you stay at mine tonight, so I can make sure you actually get some rest?” he suggested, eyes suddenly earnest, and Merlin felt a smile tug at his lips at his concern.

“We both know I won’t get any sleep if I stay there,” he pointed out, but he couldn’t quite hide the longing in his voice when he said it.  It’d been nearly a week since he’d had time to even  see Arthur, let alone sleep with him.  Judging by the sudden heat in Arthur’s eyes, he was thinking along the same lines.  It only lasted a moment, though, and then that heat was once again replaced by concern.

“I promise to be a perfect gentleman.  You can repay me later, after you’ve caught up on sleep.  Alright?”

Merlin nodded, hiding his smile in his drink.  “Yeah, alright.”

“Good,” Arthur said, and Merlin gave into the temptation to reach across the table for his hand.  Arthur looked confused for a moment, glancing down at their hands like he wasn’t sure they should be doing this in public.  It was the same blind panic Merlin had seen in Arthur’s eyes countless times before in other lives, whenever their arms brushed in the market or their eyes held each other’s glances for just a second too long.  Merlin nearly pulled back, but then Arthur visibly relaxed, and squeezed Merlin’s fingers back.

When they finished their lunch, they stood to pay the waitress, who waved them off with barely a glance.  They hadn’t been in the café long, but the wind had picked up, and Merlin shivered a bit in his light shirt, wishing he hadn’t been so quick to finish his coffee.

“Didn’t you bring a coat?” Arthur asked reproachfully.  Merlin shook his head.  “Typical.  You’re not even wearing a scarf for once.”

“I didn’t think I’d need one without your love bites to cover up,” Merlin replied.  He shivered again.

“Oh, for the love of—here, take mine.”

“What?  No, Arthur, you need it, we’re almost inside, anyway—“

“Shut up, Merlin.  You haven’t an ounce of fat on your body.  I’ll be fine,” Arthur interrupted, shoving his jacket into Merlin’s hand.  Merlin glared at him, but put the jacket on, anyway.  Arthur may be an overbearing prat, but it really was cold out.

“There, happy?”

“Exceedingly,” Arthur said dryly.  He reached out to smooth down the collar.  “It suits you.”

Merlin snorted.  Like all of Arthur’s clothes, the jacket was too big and hung on Merlin’s frame, making him look even skinnier than he was.  But Arthur wasn’t looking at that.  He seemed fascinated with something on Merlin’s chest, instead, staring at it with a strange look in his eyes.  Merlin suddenly felt uncomfortable under his gaze.  Before he could look to see what had his attention (and, knowing Arthur, it was probably some prank or another), Arthur’s lips were on his.  He squeaked in surprise.  Arthur’s kiss was sweet, hardly more than a gentle pressure against Merlin’s mouth, but his grip on Merlin’s arm was anything but.  It was possessive, tight without being painful, a clear claim right there in the middle of the street. 

Through his haze of shock, Merlin thought he heard Arthur murmur, “Mine,” against his lips before he was suddenly released, blinking stupidly while Arthur stepped away.

“You better go,” Arthur was saying, letting his hand fall to his side.  “Don’t want to be late for your meeting with Gaius.  I'll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Merlin managed a little dazedly.  Arthur smiled, and with one last stolen kiss, was gone.  Merlin watched him leave with the distinct impression that he’d missed something.

Shaking himself, Merlin glanced down to see what had so fascinated Arthur about seeing his own jacket on Merlin.  It a simple one, red with the gold dragon emblem of Arthur’s football team on the right breast.  On the left was one simple embroidered word:  Penn .

“ _ It suits you _ ,” Arthur had said.  Merlin laughed.

“Possessive dollophead,” he chuckled, and drew the jacket even closer.

 

 

Arthur was fairly certain the movers had made a mistake. There was no way that  all of these boxes were theirs, taking up every available surface in what was supposed to be their new sitting room but which currently resembled someone’s garage.  He spared a moment to be thankful that Merlin had corralled their friends the day before to help set up their furniture and get a head start on unpacking so they didn’t have to deal with it on move-in day as he waded past a series of boxes labeled ‘kitchen’.  When he’d originally asked Merlin to move in with him, Arthur had expected them to simply shift whatever hadn’t already migrated there to Arthur’s flat and that’d be that.  Merlin was practically always at Arthur’s, anyway, it’d seemed like the logical option.  And Merlin had smiled, and agreed, and had gone nearly a month without a complaint, but—

“We should buy a flat together.  A new one,” he’d said one day, out of the blue and almost nervously, picking at a loose thread in his jeans.  Arthur had been confused, setting down the paper he’d been reading to ask, “But you just moved in here.  Why do we need a new flat?  I thought you liked this one.”

“I do,” Merlin had rushed to assure him, “I really do.  I just thought…it was  _yours _ for so long, and…I want somewhere that’s ours, from the very beginning.  We’ve never been able to do that before, and…I want to.”

Arthur had known by the tone of his voice that ‘before’ didn’t just mean the twenty-odd years they’d lived in this lifetime.  Merlin had looked so eager, and Arthur had never been able to deny him when he looked like  that .

“We could look into somewhere closer to work, for both of us,” he’d said, slowly, and Merlin’s answering smile had been all the encouragement he’d needed.  Now, several months of extensive flat-hunting later and faced with the sheer amount of _stuff_ they owned, Arthur tried hard not to resent his past self for falling for Merlin’s tricks.

Shaking his head, Arthur moved to toss yet another box onto the empty pile, nearly tripping over Merlin’s cat in the process.  Kilgharrah (and wasn’t that a ridiculous name, but Merlin was a terribly nostalgic creature) meowed at him as it darted away to peer at him from behind a box.  Arthur rolled his eyes at it.

“Bloody spoiled thing,” he muttered.  Kilgharrah’s answering purr was drowned out by the sound of the door opening, and then by the arrival of Merlin, who was carrying yet another box.

“Found the bedsheets,” he announced, plopping the box down in a clear area, “thank God.  I swear, if I had to go down to the car one more time I was going to scream.  I don’t know  how we lived without elevators.”  He turned and smiled at Arthur, bending down to scratch Kilgharrah’s ears when the cat pounced at his shoelace.  “But I did get to meet our new neighbor, Ms. Alice.  She asked us round for tea once we’ve settled in.”

“Tea?” Arthur repeated, raising his eyebrows.  Merlin nodded.

“Yes, tea.  You know, delicious, hot beverage, served with cakes?”  Arthur made a face at him, which was ignored.  “I told her we would, she seemed lovely.  And she called me a  _dear_ .”  He sounded so delighted about the whole thing, that Arthur couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m sure that’ll change the first time you have Will over for a visit,” he said, sniggering, “or Gwaine.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” Merlin snorted, turning to survey the crowded room.  He whistled.  “That tea might have to wait a while.  It’ll take  ages to put it all of this away.”

“Couldn’t you magic it done?” Arthur asked with a waggle of his fingers.  Merlin looked scandalized.

“No, I can’t just  _magic it done_ .  This is our home, Arthur, we have to do this  _properly_ .”

Arthur shrugged, trying not to show how much hearing Merlin say ‘our home’ pleased him.  “Alright, fine, we’ll do it your way.”

Merlin beamed at him, darting forward to steal a quick kiss before dragging Arthur in the direction of the bedroom and instructing him to set their furniture in order.  Arthur obeyed with a remark about Merlin fancying himself some kind of expert, to which Merlin replied, “Well, I’ve been cleaning up after you for centuries, haven’t I?”, and really, there wasn’t much Arthur could say to that.

Once they finished in the bedroom (and honestly, who cared if Arthur didn’t manage to get the sheets perfectly straight, and he was convinced Merlin usually cheated with magic, anyway), they moved out into the sitting room, where they dove warily but enthusiastically into the boxes.  Little by little, the stack of empty boxes grew larger than the yet-unpacked one.  Arthur paused for a moment to appreciate their work, and was surprised by how much the place already felt like them.  Merlin was flitting around him, singing under his breath as he worked.  Things Arthur had kept in his old flat were now strewn about this new one, mingled in with Merlin’s belongings seamlessly, in a way they’d never quite managed back at Arthur’s old flat.  The painting Merlin had found at a rummage sale and instantly loved hung on the wall between their bookshelves, which were stuffed with their joint libraries and  stood sentinel behind Arthur’s armchair and the floor lamp he’d rescued from the office.  The blanket Hunith had knitted for Merlin years ago was thrown over the sofa, where it was promptly claimed by Kilgharrah.

With a start, Arthur realized that Merlin had been right.  This wasn’t just Arthur’s space with Merlin’s possessions thrown inside it; it was  theirs , a blank slate that they were slowly filling together.  It felt right.

More importantly, it felt like home.

A throw pillow to the temple abruptly jolted Arthur out of his musings, followed by Merlin’s amused, “Come on, lazy, that’s enough day dreaming.  I’m not your housewife, back to work!”  Arthur snorted, and tossed the pillow back.  An impromptu pillow fight broke out, where Merlin leapt between the boxes and tossed his ammunition blindly over his shoulder before being tackled gracelessly to the ground by Arthur.  He laughed as he was pinned against the rug, shouting, “Fuck, get off me you ass!” and getting a “Not until you admit defeat, Merlin” in return.  Their tussle only ended when Kilgharrah, jostled from his position by a wild arc of Merlin’s leg against the sofa, hissed and pounced on Arthur’s back, swatting him on the head and Merlin in the face with his tail as he sauntered off in disgust.  They returned to work after that, still red-cheeked from laughing, and swapping ancient insults that were more fond than biting.

Finally, the pile of boxes had been significantly reduced, stacked in the shadows from the waning sunlight.  Arthur was just finishing hooking up their landline, which Merlin had insisted on.  He straightened and saw Merlin bending over one of the remaining boxes, pulling up a small wrapped parcel that Arthur couldn’t remember packing.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Flat-warming present from Gwen.”  Merlin looked at him.  “Want to open it?”

Arthur waved a hand.  “Nah, you do it.”  He was rewarded by Merlin’s happy grin and a quick kiss before Merlin tore into the parcel eagerly, unwrapping a picture frame.  A post-it with Gwen’s handwriting had been placed in front of the photo.

_Merlin and Arthur_ , (it read)

_ Congratulations on your new flat!  Thought you could use some help putting yourselves in those bare walls.  
All our love, Gwen and Lance _

Curious, Merlin tore off the note to see the picture.  There was a pause, and then both of them burst out laughing.

“Oh my  God ,” Merlin gasped, “I can’t believe she still had this!”

“I can,” Arthur laughed.  “It’s the very definition of blackmail.”

Merlin giggled again, glancing down at the photo.  His photographic self beamed back at him.  It’d been taken at a Halloween party years ago, back when they’d first found each other.  Merlin was dressed as a rather shoddy-looking hobbit, and very obviously drunk.  He had an arm slung around Arthur’s neck, who was holding him up by the waist, with a sailor hat askew atop his head.  He was smiling, too, but it was a more controlled, fondly amused version than Merlin’s all-out beam.  They both looked ridiculous, but there was something undeniably charming about it.

“It’s  _brilliant_ ,” Merlin remarked decidedly.  “We have to put this somewhere.”

He strode forward and placed the picture in pride of place on the coffee table, right beside the phone.

“Perfect,” Merlin declared, turning to Arthur for affirmation.  Arthur smiled at him.

“Perfect,” he agreed.  He stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Merlin’s waist.  “The whole place looks great.”

“It’s a mess,” Merlin laughed, glancing around at the half-unpacked boxes.  Arthur shrugged.

“It’s still home,” he said into a quick kiss.  Merlin beamed up at him.

“It is, doesn’t it?” He leaned in for another kiss, longer this time.  “Thank you for asking me to move in with you.  I love our flat.”

Arthur smiled back.  “I do, too.  Although that might be because you haven’t had the chance to make a mess of it yet.”

“Oh, shut up,” Merlin groaned, rolling his eyes.  “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Am I?  Here, let me make it up to you.”

He leaned in to lure Merlin into a slow, proper kiss, tightening his grip on his waist to bring them closer together.  Merlin chuckled against his lips but kissed back, letting his arms move to wrap around Arthur’s shoulders.  He licked his way into Arthur’s mouth, right there in their sitting room, between Merlin’s phone and Arthur’s coffee table and their IKEA sofa.

“Good thing you made the bed already,” Merlin said after a moment, breaking away to mouth along Arthur’s jaw.  He shifted a little, and felt a promising hardness press against his thigh. 

 “Care to christen our new flat?”

Arthur grinned.  “Why go all the way to the bedroom?” he replied, and pulled a laughing Merlin to the floor.

 

 

“You cannot _possibly_ still be hungry.”

Merlin fixed Arthur with his best wide-eyed expression.

“Arthur, you can’t come to New York City and not have pizza.  It’s a  _crime_ .”

“You said the same thing about the street vendor’s hot dogs,” Arthur replied dubiously, “and that was just an hour ago.”

“ Arthur ,” Merlin sighed, stepping closer to Arthur’s side.  Considering that they’d already been pressed tightly together by the crowd around them, Arthur was rather impressed by this.  He tried to hold his resolve, anyway, if only for the sake of argument.  He didn’t stand a chance against Merlin’s pleading expression, and he knew it.  “We can go to one of those fancy restaurants tomorrow if you want, but I am  not letting you go back to England without eating some pizza.  You said today was my day to choose what we do, anyway.”

That was true.  They’d agreed to set aside one day each of their five-day holiday for them to dictate what they wanted to do.  Merlin had drawn first, and so far Arthur had been dragged to a museum, a giant toy store (where he’d tried and failed not to show his delight at the giant, moving dinosaur model), followed by a tour of Time’s Square.  Merlin had been positively delighted by all of the street vendors, happily munching on a hot dog and a pretzel the size of Arthur’s face while they walked.  Now they were wandering around fairly aimlessly, stopping whenever something caught Merlin’s attention.  Which, at that moment, was a pizza parlour.  Still, Arthur couldn’t help but feel obligated to resist.

“We didn’t have pizza the last time we were here,” he protested, but that only made Merlin smile wider.

“Doesn’t count, it was 1872.  Now come  _on_ !” he laughed, pulling Arthur after him into the restaurant.

After consuming a disturbingly large and greasy piece of pizza each, they were back on the street.  Arthur was complaining about the grease on his fingers, not really paying attention to what he was saying in favor of watching the fond exasperation in Merlin’s eyes as he listened to Arthur swear that his fingers would never be grease-free again.  They allowed the crowd to steer them back towards Time’s Square, where Merlin produced his camera.  Arthur groaned.

“Didn’t you get enough earlier?” he complained, bringing a guarding hand up as Merlin clicked away.

“Nope,” Merlin said cheerfully, taking another picture of a pigeon on the sidewalk.  “Don’t pretend you don’t love it, you’re still an egotistical prat.”

“Hey,” Arthur protested with a glare, which was simply met with another click.

“Excuse me,” a voice broke in, and they turned to see a young woman looking at them.  She smiled.  “Do you want me to take your picture for you?  That way you can both get in it.”

“Really?  That’d be great, thanks!” Merlin answered before Arthur could brush her off.  He ran forward to hand the girl the camera, briefly instructing her on how to work the thing before sliding back towards Arthur, beaming.

“You guys ready?”

“Ready,” Merlin called back, sliding an arm around Arthur’s waist.  Arthur felt something warm settle in his chest at the familiar feel of Merlin fitting against him, and he felt a genuine smile tug at his lips in response.

“Alright, three…two—“

Impulsively, Arthur turned and hooked his fingers in Merlin’s belt loops.  He tugged, and suddenly they were standing chest-to-chest, and Merlin’s confused “What—“ is swallowed by a kiss.  There was the briefest of pauses, long enough for Arthur to wrap his arms tighter around Merlin while the girl counted “One…”, and then Merlin was kissing him back, leaning in further until there wasn’t any space between them.

Distantly, Arthur saw the flash of a camera.  He pulled away, and Merlin blinked at him, kiss-swollen lips still parted in surprise, looking shocked and aroused and utterly fuckable.

“Huh,” he said, dazed eyes fixed on Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur grinned.

 

\---

 

Their hotel room was tastefully decorated, with a window that offered a nice view of the city lights.  More importantly, it featured a large bed with soft sheets and piles of pillows, half of which had already been knocked to the floor.  Merlin was spread across the mattress, naked hips wrapped around Arthur’s as Arthur worked him open.  He had a long-fingered grip on Arthur’s shoulders, whimpering whenever Arthur brushed his prostate.  They were both impatient, but Arthur waited until Merlin was gasping for him before he traded his fingers for his cock in a slow, deep thrust. Merlin’s toes curled as Arthur worked himself inside. He whinged at the snail’s pace Arthur had set and the firm grip on his hips preventing him from speeding things up.

“You utter bastard,” he moaned, and Arthur pounded in once, hard, in response.  “Ah—Arthur,” Merlin whimpered, and the sound of his voice, already broken and breathless, snapped Arthur’s control. His careful thrusts turned wild as he fucked Merlin, who gasped and strained forward for a kiss.  They were already panting too much to do more than press their mouths together, but Merlin managed a nip to Arthur’s lips between gasps and breathy exclamations.  Arthur could feel bruises forming on his hips where Merlin clutched at him, and swore.

“Fuck,” he panted, tilting his hips for a better angle.  Merlin whimpered.  “Merlin, fuck, so…so good.”

“Yeah?” Merlin tried to tease, but his voice came out in gasps and the wild look in his eyes showed how close he was.  He unclenched one of his hands from Arthur’s hip and put in on his own cock, stroking it in time with Arthur’s thrusts.  Arthur leant down to kiss him again, licking at the spot where Merlin’s teeth were digging into his lip and muffling his whimpers.  He wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew it, and he was determined to make Merlin come first.  A bite to Merlin’s jaw sent him gasping, the brush of Arthur’s fingers against a nipple bowed his back.  Arthur canted his hips and fucked into him one more time, and Merlin came with a chocked-off “ _Arth_ —fuck.”

“Jesus,” Arthur panted, hips still working frantically.  Merlin sprawled beneath him, mouth open obscenely as he panted up at Arthur, one shaking hand coming up to thread through Arthur’s hair.

“Come on, Arthur, “he chanted breathlessly, “come on, fuck, yeah—“

Arthur cut him off with a low moan, hips stuttering to a halt inside merlin.  His arms gave out, and he allowed himself to fall to the mattress, half-draped across Merlin.  He could feel Merlin’s heat beating beneath his forearm as Merlin twisted a bit to kiss him, mouth open and wanting.  As their breathing slowed back to normal, Arthur heard Merlin murmur something against his lips, and suddenly the sticky mess between them was gone, and Merlin was pushing at his shoulder.

“Heavy,” he grunted, pushing until Arthur relented and rolled onto his side.  Merlin curled into him at once, tucking himself into the curve of Arthur’s body with a contented sigh.  Arthur himself couldn’t see how he was possibly comfortable like that—one arm crushed beneath Arthur’s body, the other curled between their chests, legs twisted around each other and face pressed against Arthur’s shoulder—but Merlin seemed to love it.

“Better?” Arthur asked when Merlin finally stopped shuffling around.

“Much,” Merlin agreed, rubbing his nose into Arthur’s skin.  Arthur could tell by the way he was tracing patterns into his skin that Merlin was growing sleepy and smothered a fond grin against his dark hair.  It was quiet for a moment, both men just lying there, listening to the noises of the city in the distance mingling with their breathing.  Arthur was halfway asleep before Merlin spoke again.

“We shouldn’t wait so long to come back to New York next time,” he yawned, and burrowed closer to Arthur’s chest.  “It’s nice here.”

Arthur smiled, and hummed an agreement, already wondering if he could convince Merlin to spend his day of sight-seeing in bed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read on my [livejournal](http://silverwings2020.livejournal.com/1870.html).

It was so easy to forget that Merlin was the most powerful warlock that time had ever seen.  These days, with the biggest threat to their everyday lives being eating too many of Gwen’s biscuits, Merlin’s magic tended to be used for things like washing the dishes when they couldn’t be bothered, or tearing Arthur’s clothes off when their fingers were too slow.  Sometimes the sheer power of his magic would just coil and burn beneath Merlin’s skin from neglect, and Arthur would come home to find their walls dancing with colour and a dragon made of stars soaring through the sitting room, with Merlin at the center of it all.  The two of them always had a purpose in living.  A new incarnation meant a new task, with Merlin’s magic always at the read.  Their purpose hadn’t yet appeared this time, though Arthur knew it was close.  He could feel it, a looming presence pressing ever closer.

 

  
He was still taken by surprise, anyway.

 

\---

 

“Ever get the urge to invent a time machine just to go back and go into anything but law?”

  
Arthur snorted as he flipped through his file for the thousandth time.  “Let me know if you manage it, yeah?”

  
“Sure,” Leon laughed.  He winced as he tried to stretch out a kink in his neck.  “God, what I wouldn’t do to never read another legal document again.”

  
“You don’t have to be a lawyer to wish for that,” was Arthur reply.  Leon chuckled, but a curt knock on the door interrupted before he could say anything else, and George the secretary stepped into the office.

  
“Mr. Penn, sir, Mr. Emerson on the line.  He wants to know if you’ll be joining him for dinner, as he’s just arrived.”

  
Both Arthur and Leon had to smother their laughter at Arthur’s secretary’s censorship.  Merlin enjoyed nothing more than torturing poor George, who had never quite been able to disguise his astonishment at the way Merlin and Arthur spoke to each other.  It was much more likely that Merlin’s  _actual_ message had involved at least one swear word and called Arthur a prat.

  
“Thank you, George.  Tell Merlin I’ll be down in a minute.”

  
“I’m surprised George hasn’t snapped yet,” Leon chuckled after the secretary had retreated and Arthur had started gathering his belongings.  “He twitches whenever someone so much as mentions Merlin.”  Arthur snorted

  
“He should know by now that only encourages him.  Merlin has the mentality of a ten year old sometimes.”  He swung his bag over his shoulder.  “You staying?”

  
“Yeah, for a bit.  Going to read up on one of my cases before my meeting tomorrow.  You go on, don’t keep Merlin waiting.”

  
Arthur smiled and obeyed, waving over his shoulder as he walked out of his office.  A few people called greetings as he passed, but none asked him to stop, so within a few minutes he found himself blinking up at the cloudy late-afternoon sky.  There was already a crowd of people just getting off from work on the pavement, but Arthur found Merlin straightaway, standing by the road with his bag slung over his shoulder.  He waved when he noticed Arthur, who grinned back as he ducked past a woman in a business suit.

  
The first shot hardly even registered in Arthur’s mind until the screaming started.  The businesswoman shrieked as a nearby bin clanged loudly from the shot, and Arthur lost sight of Merlin in the suddenly frantic crowd.  Before the peculiarity of the situation could even register, centuries of being a soldier kicked in, and Arthur dropped his bag, seizing the arm of a panicking teenager and shouting “Get  _down_  !” as he pushed him towards a bin.  A split second later, he was forced to release the woman he’d been urging to safety as the bullet brushed his arm.  He hissed in pain, clutching his suddenly torn and bleeding sleeve as a fresh wave of panic erupted along the pavement.

  
“Stay where you are!” he roared, ignoring his wound and reaching for a man trying to bolt from behind a bus stop.  “Get down, everyone—“

  
“Arthur!” Merlin’s voice rang out, and Arthur looked up to see him pushing his way over, eyes wild.  For one moment, Arthur was no longer crouching in a crowded street in London, but a wild hilltop in Wales, and then a dusty clearing in the colonies, a muddy battlefield in Germany.  “Arthur, get up,  _move_ dammit!”

  
Arthur blinked, banishing the images of neckerchiefs and uniforms from his mind, just in time to hear a third shot.  Instincts took over again and he rolled out of the way, coming to rest at the foot of the stairs leading to an office building.  The streets were mostly empty now, most people left cowering behind bins or fleeing into one of the nearby buildings.  Merlin had been forced to stop running after the last shot, taking refuge behind a bench, and Arthur finally caught sight of his would-be killer.  There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him.  He was average height, wearing jeans and a t-shirt under a worn leather jacket, and completely blended in with the people around him, except for the pistol in his hand and the rage twisting his face, both directed at Arthur as the man started shouting.

  
“You bastard Penn!  You fucking fag!  My brother was killed by people like you, and you helped his murderer escape!”

  
Suddenly, Arthur recognized the man—from the courtroom, weeks ago, when one of his clients had been proven innocent of murder charges on grounds of self-defense.  Arthur’s shooter—Glen, he remembered, Glen Pepper—was the brother of the so-called victim, and, Arthur had suspected, a second party in the violent hate crime against his gay client that had started the whole mess, though they hadn’t been able to prove it.

  
Arthur had a brief moment to think “ _He’s insane_ ,” then, “This _is insane_ ,” before Pepper brandished his gun again.

  
“I’ll fucking kill you, Penn!” he shouted, and it was so hopelessly movie-villain that Arthur couldn’t stop himself from letting out a hiccup of disbelieving laughter.  Pepper scowled and pointed his gun at Arthur, at the same time someone jumped into the open.  Merlin didn’t even glance at Arthur, but Arthur couldn’t look away from him.  He was vaguely aware of Pepper shouting something else, but then Merlin’s eyes flared gold.

  
As if he’d been waiting for that very signal, Arthur leapt forward.  Pepper stumbled in the sudden wind blasting through the street—too strong to be natural, Arthur knew—just enough to give Arthur an opening.  The gun went flying as Arthur tackled Pepper to the ground, conveniently knocking his head against the pavement.  Dazed, he let his fists fly in wild arcs towards Arthur’s face.  He landed a lucky blow against Arthur’s bleeding arm, and Arthur hissed as he ducked and gave Pepper one swift knee to the stomach in response.  Arthur used his advantage to seize Pepper’s shoulders and flip him onto his stomach.

  
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Pepper screamed into the pavement as Arthur straddled him.  Suddenly a third pair of arms appeared, seizing Pepper’s thrashing legs and securing them.  Arthur looked up to see Leon, red-faced as though he’d run all the way from the office.

  
“Are you going to knock him out or should I?” Leon demanded.

  
Arthur grimaced.  He turned forward again over Pepper’s shouting (“Murdering fucking fag!  Go to hell, you disgusting—“) and struck him once in the head.  Pepper went limp at once.  Cautiously, Arthur eased off of his shoulders.  His arm protested violently, but he ignored it in favor of pushing himself shakily to his feet.

  
Before he’d even managed to turn around, he heard running footsteps, and suddenly he found himself with an armful of frantic warlock.

  
“You stupid  _pillock_ , what the fuck were you thinking?” Merlin demanded, eyes still gold around the edges.  The fury in his words was completely tempered by his hands clutching somewhat desperately at his shirt as he checked Arthur for damage.  “He was trying to  _kill you_  and you just bloody stood there—“

  
“I’m fine, Merlin,” Arthur tried to interrupt, but Merlin cut him off.

  
“You are not fine, Arthur, you prat, you got shot!”

  
“It’s just a scratch,” Arthur pointed out.  “You stopped him before he could do worse.”

  
Merlin made a strangled sound before throwing himself at Arthur.  Arthur returned his embrace, murmuring reassurance after reassurance as Merlin clung to him.  They were still standing that way minutes later when the police arrived, ambulance in tow, only separating as much as necessary when someone came to take care of Arthur’s still-bleeding arm.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Arthur work to the late-morning sun and Merlin’s limbs tangled with his.  He slid from the bed as gently as he could and put on a pair of boxers before going to put the tea on.  Their mail was already waiting at the door when he ambled over to fish out the paper with a yawn.  He was about to toss in onto the table when the front page caught his eye, and he froze.

  
‘ _PENN TAKES HIT FOR SAME-SEX PARTNERS—LGBT COMMUNITY RALLIES AGAINST HATE CRIMES._ ’

  
There was a picture attached to the article, and he stared at it in slight bemusement.  It was of him and Merlin holding each other close, apparently completely oblivious to the flurry of police and witnesses around them.  Merlin’s head was buried under Arthur’s chin, a gentle hand placed over the bandage on his arm, and Arthur had his face buried in Merlin’s hair and his hands fisted in his jumper.  Beneath it was the caption, " _Penn and Emerson comfort each other at the shooting.  LGBT community is praising the couple as “ideal spokes models for the charge against hate crimes_ ”.

  
Arthur blinked.  Behind him, the kettle squealed, and a loud thump in the bedroom announced Merlin’s rolling out of bed.  Something settles in Arthur’s stomach, and he lets his eyes close, shaking his head.

  
It feels like destiny.

 

 

Merlin hummed cheerfully to himself as he poked around in Lance and Gwen’s kitchen for drinks.  He could hear his friends in the other room, the chatter nearly drowning out the Christmas music on the stereo.  He laughed when Will started to sing along, followed shortly by a wail from Brian, Lance and Gwen’s five-month-old son.  He’d just managed to find an unopened bottle of wine when the kitchen door opened and Arthur walked in.

  
“Hey, you,” Merlin said with a smile as he worked at opening the bottle.  “Having a good time?”

  
Arthur smiled back before he answered, “Not as good as you.  That was a very impressive game of charades.”

  
Merlin laughed.

  
“I blame Morgana.  She’s the one that kept refilling my glass at dinner.”  Arthur chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist from behind.

  
“You never could hold your alcohol,” he replied, pressing his forehead against Merlin’s hair.  He sighed, so softly it was hardly more than a wisp of air.  But Merlin heard it anyway.  With a frown, he shifted slightly in Arthur’s grip and poked at Arthur’s arm.  “What’s up?”

  
“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” Arthur replied a shade too quickly.

  
“Arthur,” Merlin began threateningly, “don’t lie to me.  What’s wrong?”  Arthur sighed.

  
“Lance keeps asking me when I’m going to ask you to marry me,” he admitted into Merlin’s neck.

  
“Ah,” Merlin sighed.  He put down the bottle of wine and turned in Arthur’s grip to look at him.  Arthur was frowning down at their shoes, but he looked up at the touch of Merlin’s fingers to his chin.  “You know they’re just winding you up, right?  It’s what they do.  They’re happy for us, Arthur.”

  
“I know, I know,” Arthur groaned, “I just—“

  
“Hey, we talked about this,” Merlin interrupted.  “We’re going to get engaged when it feels right , not just because we can.  We deserve that as much as any other couple.”  He leaned up and kissed Arthur once, gently.  “Alright?”

  
“Alright,” Arthur relented.  He paused, and then added, “Gwaine’s taking bets on when it’ll happen, you know.”  Merlin laughed.

  
“Typical Gwaine.  I hope he’s learned not to include Morgana in his bets by now, or he’ll lose to her again.  Come on, let’s go back to the party.”  He smiled slyly, leaning in close to murmur, “Just think, we make it through tonight, and we’ll be able to have Christmas day all to ourselves.  No interruptions.  We won’t even have to get out of bed.”

  
That got a laugh out of Arthur.  “When you put it like that, how could I object?  Alright, let’s go brave the masses.”  He allowed himself to be towed out of the kitchen into the sitting room, where their friends had organized themselves into a haggard circle in their absence.

  
“There you two are!” Gwaine cried when he spotted the couple.  “About time, we were about to send a search party.”

  
“Stuff it, Gwaine,” Arthur replied conversationally.  “What’s with the circle?”

  
“Gift exchange,” Leon supplied, waving them over.  “Join us!”

  
“Oh, good,” Merlin said and went to plop down beside Will.  Arthur took the seat on his other side, and Merlin saw him visibly start to relax while their friends bickered over who should go first.  Gwen won, and Percy handed over her gift with a smile, which turned bashful when Gwen thanked him and immediately wrapped her new scarf around her neck.  Mithian handed Percy his next, and Elena hers after that.  Some of the gifts were earnest, but most were amusing.  Soon it was Merlin’s turn to hand Gwaine his and watch as Gwaine tore open the package & laughed along with everyone else at its contents.

  
“Just what I wanted,” Gwaine chuckled, holding up his new garishly colourful copy of  _Manners are Important!_  .  “Thank you, Merlin.  I’ll never know how such a thoughtful person wound up shackled to Penn.”

  
“You’re just jealous because I turned you down first,” Merlin teased, to everyone’s general amusement.  Gwaine scoffed and placed a dramatic hand over his heart.

  
“You wound me, Merlin.  I take everything back; you and Penn deserve each other.”

  
“Don’t be an arse, Gwaine,” Elyan interrupted, grinning.  “Now who had Merlin?”

  
“That would be me,” Morgana announced, with a smirk that made Merlin a bit nervous.  He opened his gift warily, conscious of Morgana’s smug look and Gwen’s muffled giggling.  Morgana’s smirk turned downright gleeful when Merlin pulled out two silk robes, both pearly white and nearly translucent.  He saw when he held them up that one of them was significantly longer than the other, with the word ‘Mr.’ written on the breast in curly script.  With a sense of dread, Merlin looked at the other one, which, sure enough, was embroidered with ‘Mrs.’.

  
“I do hope they’ll fit you both,” Morgana said over the sudden roar of laughter.  “I had to estimate your sizes.”

  
Merlin was unable to hold back his own snort of laughter, and he glanced over at Arthur to gauge his reaction.  Arthur looked back at him with an amused expression, no trace of discomfort in his eyes.  As Merlin watched, Arthur leaned forward, plucking the shorter robe from his hands and holding it higher for inspection.

  
“Thank you, Morgana,” he said after a moment, smirking now.  “Here, Merlin, this one will look great with your legs—“

  
–which set which set off a whole new round of laughter (Merlin included, after a token protest and a punch to Arthur’s shoulder), which ended when Brian was startled awake and began to cry.

  
Later, after Brian had been put to bed and the rest of the gifts exchanged, and after Gwaine and Elena started throwing peanuts into each other’s mouths (dangerous enough with Elena sober and bordering deadly now), Merlin and Arthur called it a night.  Merlin hummed Christmas songs all the way to their flat, the bells on the elf hat he’d acquired at some point jingling as he watched Arthur smile at the passing street.  The smile remained as they slipped into their flat and bubbled into laughter when Merlin nearly brained himself trying to take off his trousers.  Merlin automatically draped himself across Arthur’s chest when they finally crawled into bed.  From there, he couldn’t see Arthur’s smile anymore, but he could hear Arthur’s gently beating heart, and could smell his favourite soap on his skin when he nuzzled in closer with a happy sigh.

  
And he definitely, definitely felt the press of lips against his hair and the whisper of air on his cheek as Arthur breathed, “I love you.”

 

 

The flat was quiet when Merlin let himself in on Friday evening, the soft glow of light from the sitting room the only sign that Arthur was home.  Merlin kicked off his shoes with a grateful groan before making his way towards the sitting room, where he found his boyfriend sprawled out on the sofa with a book, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.  He smiled when he saw Merlin and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

  
“Hey, you,” he said, accepting Merlin’s hello kiss.  “You’re home later than expected.”

  
“I know, sorry,” Merlin sighed as he settled back into Arthur’s chest.  “We had a few students come in in a panic about exams, but we sorted them out eventually.”  Arthur chuckled, his hands playing with Merlin’s hair.  Merlin let his eyes close as he leaned into it.  “What about you?  How was work?”

  
“Long,” Arthur answered.  He smoothed away Merlin’s fringe from his eyes.  “Glad to reach the weekend.”

  
Merlin hummed in agreement.

  
“What do you have planned for the evening?  Elyan said something about a movie the other day,” he ventured after a moment.  They usually spent Friday nights with their friends when they could, wrapping up the work week with a dinner party or a few hours at the pub, before heading home for a weekend of curling up on the couch and arguing over the remote.  It was nice, and Merlin usually looked forward to it, but tonight, he was far too comfortable lying in Arthur’s arms to want to leave.

  
Fortunately, Arthur seemed to be thinking similarly.

  
“Why don’t we skip all that this week?” he suggested with a kiss to Merlin’s ear.  “We can stay in instead.”

  
Merlin smiled against Arthur’s chest.  “Are you cooking?”

  
“Does re-heating the pasta from down the street count as cooking?”

  
“It does in this house.”

  
“Then yes, I’m cooking.”  Merlin laughed.  He lifted his head for a kiss, which Arthur gave him.  Merlin had just managed to sneak the tips of his fingers beneath the waistband of Arthur sweats when Arthur tried to pull away.  “We’re never going to have dinner if you keep distracting me like this,” he murmured against Merlin’s lip when the sorcerer chased him.  Merlin hummed.

  
“That’s fine with me,” he replied cheekily, nipping at Arthur’s lip, but Arthur was determined.  He gripped Merlin’s hips and firmly pushed him away, ignoring Merlin’s protest.

  
“Go change, you horny bastard.  We both know you’ll be hungry and complaining in an hour if I don’t feed you.”

  
Merlin made a face, but obeyed.  They peeled themselves off of the sofa, Arthur heading into the kitchen and Merlin slipping into their bedroom.  By the time he re-emerged, wearing a t-shirt (his) and sweats (Arthur’s), Arthur was just scooping out pasta onto a pair of plates, and the table had been set, complete with a candle in the middle of it.  Merlin raised his eyebrows at it, but Arthur just shrugged and plopped down into his seat.  Merlin sat beside him.  They’d done away with circular tables centuries back, but they still liked to sit this way, side-by-side rather than across from each other.  It was easier for Merlin to prop his feet up on Arthur’s chair, and for Arthur to steal food from Merlin’s plate.

  
Tonight was no different.  They chatted idly while they ate, about Merlin’s job (“My students love me, you prat, it’s my exams they hate.”), and Elena’s pregnancy (“And I thought she was clumsy before…”), and whatever else came to mind (“One Direction is for _teenage girls, Mer_  lin—“ “Oi, don’t be sexist.”).  Merlin’s toes brushed absently against Arthur’s hip from time to time, turning into jabs whenever Arthur made to swipe some of his pasta.

  
“At least finish your own food before you start stealing mine,” Merlin grumbled the sixth time this happened, watching morosely as Arthur popped his fork into his mouth.

  
Arthur smirked at him.  “Where’s the fun in that?” he asked and Merlin flicked a noodle at him in response.  It hit Arthur square on the mouth, leaving a splash of sauce, before falling into his lap.  “Merlin!” Arthur sputtered, obviously trying to hold back his laughter as he glared at his boyfriend.  Merlin giggled back at him.

  
“I’m sorry,  _sire_  ,” he said, with a completely unapologetic smile.  “Here, let me get that for you.”

  
Arthur said nothing as Merlin leaned towards him, but a low groan escaped him when Merlin’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth.  Merlin smirked before following it with a barely-there kiss.  Arthur moaned and turned his head the remaining half-inch to bring their lips together.  Merlin dropped his fork in favor of cupping Arthur’s face in his hands as the kiss deepened.

  
“How about we get started on dessert?” he suggested, sucking Arthur’s lower lip between his teeth and nipping it gently.  Arthur snorted.

  
“Idiot,” he said as he pulled Merlin from the table and into their bedroom, where he pressed him down against the mattress and chased the hems of his clothes with kisses to Merlin’s skin.  Merlin let his fingers tangle in Arthur’s hair as the blonde licked and nuzzled at his cock, playing teasingly with his tongue along the head until Merlin thought he might die from waiting.  He almost sobbed with relief when Arthur finally swallowed him down, coaxing Merlin’s orgasm from him with a clever tongue and fingers seeking out all of Merlin’s sensitive spots.  When Merlin came, Arthur wasted no time in crawling up to draw him into a deep, filthy kiss, the taste of Merlin’s come still on his lips and tongue as he thrust shamelessly against Merlin’s hip until he found his own release.

  
After, the kisses grew long and languid, and Merlin hummed contentedly into Arthur’s mouth, feeling light and boneless.  He let his eyes close when Arthur moved his lips down his body, squirming when Arthur’s tongue swept out to lick him clean.  Arthur grinned up at him from beneath his lashes and swirled his tongue around Merlin’s bellybutton.  
Merlin laughed.

  
“Oi, don’t get any ideas,” he scolded teasingly, pushing gently at Arthur’s head.  “We’re not teenagers anymore, don’t be greedy.”

  
“Can’t help it.  You bring out the worst of me.”

  
“That explains a lot.”  Merlin laughed again at Arthur’s mock-outraged expression, which melted away the instant Merlin began to run his fingers through Arthur’s hair.  Arthur nuzzled against Merlin’s belly, whatever argument he’d been prepared to make forgotten as he settled in.  Merlin smiled down at him.  Arthur had never been much of a snuggler, but from time to time they would do this, lie together in bed, Arthur’s arms hugging Merlin’s hips to his chest, sometimes talking but usually just sharing the silence.  The gentle touches almost always melted into more sex, but Merlin felt no need to hurry the moment along, content for now with his fingers in Arthur’s hair and Arthur’s breath against his abdomen.

  
Merlin let his hand drift to thumb along Arthur’s cheekbone.  Arthur turned his head so that he had one cheek pressed against Merlin’s belly, the other into his palm.

  
“I love you,” he said, and Merlin smiled, because it was so very Arthur to say that so seriously, as if the earth would stop if he didn’t say it right that instant .

  
“I know you do,” he replied, because he felt it, too, the world-stopping importance of making sure Arthur knew, without a doubt, that he was loved right back, that a thousand lifetimes had passed and a thousand more could come as long as Merlin got to have Arthur in his arms.  “I love you, too.”

  
Arthur’s answering smile was so warm and so hopelessly happy, Merlin couldn’t resist moving to smooth his hair again with an identical grin on his own face.  One of Arthur’s hands came up to catch Merlin’s, threading their fingers together easily.

  
“I’m glad,” he said.  “That makes this easier.”

  
“Makes what easier?” Merlin asked, but Arthur was already crawling towards the nightstand and rummaging around for something.  “Arthur?”

  
In answer, Arthur moved to sit beside Merlin, their thighs touching, and lifted up his prize.  Merlin sat up to get a better look and felt his heart stop when he saw the small black box in Arthur’s hand.  He had to press a shaking hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp when Arthur thumbed it open, revealing the shining silver ring inside.  He looked back up at Arthur, dumbstruck, and saw him smiling back.

  
“I had this all planned out,” Arthur admitted.  “There was going to be candles, and that ice cream you love, and possibly flowers.  I was going to get down on my knee and everything.”  Merlin let out a strangled sound that was meant to be a laugh.  Arthur smiled at him, and Merlin thought he might actually explode as he reached for Merlin’s hand and finally, finally breathed, “Marry me?”

  
“Yes,” Merlin gasped at once, “yes, yes, oh my God .”

  
He surged forward to press a frantic kiss against Arthur’s mouth, laughing giddily when their teeth clacked and their noses bumped.  Arthur laughed right back, and then they were kissing properly.  It was a long time before they parted, and when they did, Arthur took Merlin’s hand in his to slip on the sleek silver ring.  Merlin laughed again for pure happiness at the sight of it before drawing Arthur in for another kiss.

  
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this,” Arthur said after a moment, forehead pressed to Merlin’s and arms around his waist.  “I would have given it to you centuries ago if I could have.”

  
“It doesn’t matter, Arthur,” Merlin replied, and he truly meant it.  He didn’t care about the lives spent being lovers but not husbands, partners but not bonded, because they had right now, this moment and all the moments of the future meant just for the two of them.  He ran his thumb over Arthur’s cheekbone lovingly and pressed a kiss to his lips.  “From now on, we have forever.”

  
And they do.

 


End file.
